


Tabloid Writer

by Daegaer



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
Genre: Aliens, Crossover, Demons, Gen, Humor, Spaceships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-20
Updated: 2008-08-20
Packaged: 2020-06-03 22:39:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19473652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: Zaphod gets an offer he doesn't want to refuse.





	Tabloid Writer

"Hey, baby," Zaphod said, "Did the Improbability Drive pick you up? Trillian! I thought you set the drive to filter out hitchhikers?"

"We don't seem to have a setting for demons," she said.

"Nice spaceship," Crowley said. "I bet you're famous for stealing it."

"Oh, _yeah_. I mean, _what?_ " Zaphod said in carefully-practiced sincerity. Trillian had a thing for avoiding unnecessary notice (which he assumed was an Earth concept).

"How'd you like to be famous on every planet for stealing it? Even planets that are in the stone age, have no TV and think there's nothing beyond their crystal spheres? Er, atmospheres? Right now? At no cost to you – not of anything you're using, anyhow."

Zaphod's eyes lit up. "My fame gets even more mega? And I don't actually have to _do_ anything? Do you have some hold over backwater media? The ones that use that stuff to put news on – what's that stuff, Trillian? With the words?"

"Paper," she sighed.

"Trust me, all the tabloid editors owe me one," Crowley said. "But before you get your name in the papers, maybe I could have your signature on some parchment?"

Luckily for Zaphod, Trillian's degrees in astrophysics had included a historical module covering rather more mediaeval cosmology than she'd previously had use for. At the first whiff of brimstone she hit the Improbability Drive again.

"Well, bugger," Crowley said, appearing outside the ship and watching it vanish in an improbable way. "Evening," he added, as the approaching angel stopped pushing its planet round its crystal sphere and looked at him in surprise.

"Are you here to do the next millennium's shift?" the angel said. "It's not that I mind doing overtime, but I'm dying for a fag and a sitdown."

"Sorry, I've got a long way to go," Crowley said, and set off at a fast pace for Earth.

It was a _long_ walk.


End file.
